


"Eat My Dick! Or— Wait, Not Literally."

by xxx_Young_Blood_xxx



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Climbing Class, Half-Wendigo Josh Washington, Josh Washington is Rescued, Language Barrier (kind of), M/M, Meanwhile Chris is hella lost and just trying his best, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Josh Washington, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Until Dawn (Video Game), elements of non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:27:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29304966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxx_Young_Blood_xxx/pseuds/xxx_Young_Blood_xxx
Summary: His shirt has been clawed at from what Chris can see, ripped in various easy-to-reach places like his stomach and chest. Some tears are on his back though, clotted blood streaks from where he sliced the skin with his nails. At first, Chris can only clear his throat after he's taken in everything, but the fact that Josh continued to hump the bed unnerves him still. Was he...?Chris doesn't even know if this is normal behavior for half-turned wendigos, or if Josh is showing signs of reverting back to his human ways even further. He doesn'tthinkwendigos get off or feel the need to, but it's not like it's some shit he can just look up on Wikipedia.
Relationships: Chris Hartley/Josh Washington
Kudos: 24





	"Eat My Dick! Or— Wait, Not Literally."

**Author's Note:**

> Trust me, I also hate the title and the summary. 
> 
> I was cleaning out my notes app and found this gem, then decided to tack on 3000 more words in order to finish it because I liked the beginning so much. I didn't put much thought into it, but basically went with the fact that Josh's wendigo DNA had made him an omega, and he's going through a heat. Neither of the boys know what's going on between the three brain cells they share.

Twisting his key in the lock and making a beeline to put in the security system code before the cops were automatically alerted, Chris smells the dinner that Mrs. Washington had bought for him and Josh before he even makes it into the kitchen. He sets his duffel down and eats one slice of cold pizza as he lets his best friend's mother know that he made it here, to hang out with Josh and also to kind of secretly, but not so secretly keep an eye on him while his parents went out of town for the week on business. But, it's mostly the first part. Like, 90%.

Recalling that Josh likes his pizza extra hot, Chris heats two slices up for him and cuts them into smaller pieces once they're finished cooking, for easy consumption. Shouldering his bag again, he grabs Josh's plate and rounds the corner of the kitchen.

The Washingtons kept the door to the renovated basement unlocked these days, not quite as terrified of Josh as they once were when they'd first brought him home from the mental facility. There's a loud shuffling noise when he approaches the door, something steady and unrelenting, but Chris doesn't figure it's much of anything— probably just Josh redecorating again.

When he walks down the stairs though, making sure to stomp so that Josh could hear him coming, the sound still doesn't stop. He purses his lips, biting on one side of his inner cheek anxiously before rounding the corner in one quick movement to step into the large open concept area.

"Uh," Chris lets out instinctively yet accidentally at the sight. Josh is suddenly very hyperfocused on him then, the pupils in his big eyes blown almost to the point of total blackness. His cheeks are dusted pink from exertion, his mouth hanging open slightly with some pointed teeth peeking out. Josh's tongue runs across the jaggedness of them and on the way back, his upper lip, making it shine dully in the low light.

His shirt has been clawed at from what Chris can see, ripped in various easy-to-reach places like his stomach and chest. Some tears are on his back though, clotted blood streaks from where he sliced the skin with his nails. At first, Chris can only clear his throat after he's taken in everything, but the fact that Josh continued to hump the bed unnerves him still. Was he...?

Chris doesn't even know if this is normal behavior for half-turned wendigos, or if Josh is showing signs of reverting back to his human ways even further. He doesn't _think_ wendigos get off or feel the need to, but it's not like it's some shit he can just look up on Wikipedia.

His friend coos similarly to that of a dove and his eyes flicker shut just briefly, his mouth still parted as he pants out labored breaths. The side of his head rests on one of the many pillows Chris has gifted him since his return, the rest thrown off to the side to make more room for his outstretched body.

Chris coughs. "Ah, hey buddy. Just came to give you dinner and hang out, but..." he loses the remaining words, averting his eyes and trying not to get too embarrassed about walking in on this private moment.

Josh sniffs the air, understanding the word correlating to food and he yowls deep in his throat, eyes still closed. His eyebrows furrow, and Chris hopes that's not what he thinks it means. He's not sure he wants to be here for the end.

"But, uh," his voice shakes, and his friend slows down his movements, cracking an eye open to analyze why Chris was feeling scared or uncomfortable. "I-if you... you look busy, so, I'm just gonna put this down." He hesitantly walks towards the nightstand considering that every other flat surface was covered in drawings, movies, and junk alike, ignoring the deep chirp of a greeting. "I'll come back later when you're, um— done, and then we can chill."

Josh makes a predatory, cat-like noise when he sets down the plate on the bedside table. His movements instantly halted in response. Was he pissed that Chris didn't return Josh's hello? Because from the low tone of his voice and the twitch in one of Josh's eyes, Chris figures it doesn't mean the other wanted to play fucking scrabble and cuddle. His breath stops, his heart palpitating in time with it and he slowly, slowly pulls back his hand from the rim of the dish. He wants to clean those wounds now that he's gotten a better look at them, but he assumes trying to touch Josh in any way right now wouldn't go over well at all.

"Hey, dude— it's alright, okay? I'm goin'." Chris backs up, smirking lightly in amusement and shaking his head as he turns to leave. "Finish fast though, I got the new Call of Duty and I really wanna break it in with ya," he calls over his shoulder, starting up the stairs leisurely. They couldn't play with the sound on because the gunfire and small beeps when generals wanted to talk scared him, but that was okay (even though it always costs them care packages since they never know where they are). Maybe he'd tell Sam about Josh's little... fit, maybe she'd have a theory—

" _Whagh_! Wh— _Josh_ , J-Josh, Josh—!" He squeaks in a manly way, holding onto the arms that have snaked their way around his waist for support. Why did he not hear him move from the bed? Or up the creaky stairs, even?

The body behind him is slender but large, the wendigo curse making him about six inches taller than he once was. At full height now, Josh stood about 6'6". Absolutely huge. He drags Chris back down onto the ground floor, strong for looking so weak. "Whoa— hey man, you could'a just— agh!" He's thrown onto the man's bed, and upon looking at the other slowly advancing— practically stalking —toward him, an overwhelming sense of dread fills him entirely.

"Josh?" His voice cracks, nervous, and apparently Josh finds that nice or at least interesting because his eyes sparkle and his head cocks to the side a bit. His mouth doesn't frown or smile, doesn't match the look in his irises, so Chris is getting mixed signals from all over the damn place. Josh stops about two feet from the bed, his thumb bending and straightening, a nervous habit he'd had since sixth grade. That gives Chris some cushion, comfort, because Josh was coming along in regaining his humanity, remembering everything. "I don't know what you... want, but from judging by your pants I'm guessing you didn't finish. Sorry dude, but, I can't hang 'til you get rid of that." He pushes himself up onto his elbows for a moment, and when a curious Josh didn't move to stop him, he starts to shuffle off the bed.

Apparently, Josh doesn't like that.

He screeches as a frustrated wendigo would, and Chris is suddenly hit with a wave of memories, of bad decisions and lots of blood, and he stops moving immediately. He's not given two seconds to calculate why Josh is angry before a body is above him and a harsh force is shoving his wrists down and out. Chris isn't scared, they've been in this situation before. More times than they should have; before the mountain, anyway. If anything, he's just weirded out by this new behavior.

"Josh, get off." He's in a spread eagle position, his legs dangling off the side of the bed and Josh's dense weight on his stomach makes him cough lightly once. Josh makes an inquisitive noise in his throat and leans down slowly, cocking his head as if to sniff at Chris' neck. Chris turns his head toward that side so that Josh is denied access to it— he still doesn't wholeheartedly trust him because, come on —and his friend scoffs in response. "No. I don't know what this is, and I'm not takin' any chances."

Josh hisses at him briefly, frustrated, then pushes his forehead to Chris' before rolling them over on the bed and consequently switching their positions. Chris blinks, obviously confused by the mood swings, because usually he can tell when Josh is content, mad, hungry, or even simply being pouty. He's usually very forward with his emotions and face contortions, but this... this small, challenging quirk of his lips is a new one.

"I— um. What?"

Josh stares up at him, his body practically vibrating and muscles pulled so taut that Chris would be surprised if the guy isn't cramping up.

"Talk to me, bro. What the hell is this?" He gestures with both hands, pointedly trying to ignore how he's sitting right on the other's hard-on, but failing miserably judging by how bad he's blushing right now.

His friend pauses, eyes desperately darting around as if the answer is hidden in the room. His lips twitch, thinking of the words, and then he grumbles.

"Can't," he states curtly with an extremely harsh 'c', mimicking Chris's voice perfectly from when he'd said that word before. Chris purses his lips again, skeptical. He knows the vocabulary his friend is capable of these days, and one word answers just won't cut it here.

"Yes you can. Just tell me what this is. You wanna cuddle or something?" If so, the guy would be disappointed to once again get the response that he'd have to finish the deed he'd just been caught doing before any snuggling went down.

Josh swallows, and following that, his teeth chitter lightly. It doesn't sound like a happy noise, but he still doesn't say anything. Yet, a moment after what seems like contemplation Josh does raise his hands shakily, then places them on his friend's thighs with the utmost care. Chris's heart jumps a little at it, and his own hands hover above the other's, unsure but not assuming the worst. Hell, the action would almost be endearing if Josh didn't start— albeit, gently —dragging his clawed hands up, one large palm fitting to Chris's backside while the other went to cup his—

" _Dude_!" He scolds in a broken voice, trying to yank his hips away from the offending hands. However, all it does is offer Josh some apparently much-needed friction on his crotch, considering the pleased purr that results from Chris's jerking movements. "Josh, dude— c'mon," Chris rambles in a panic. "What're you _doing_? Whatever this is, I don't..." he huffs, uneven. "If this is a joke, knock it off. Seriously."

He squirms, feeling his face continue to heat up as his friend provides some pressure to Chris's crotch in the form of a soft squeeze. And when a frantic Chris snaps his head up to gauge Josh's facial reaction to that, all he notices is what he could only describe as fuck-me eyes. There's a certain type of glazed look to the guy's lidded, dark, enticing stare, and Chris just... gawks, essentially lost in it.

Josh gives him his version of a smug grin then, noting that the other has relaxed a fraction before he speaks again. "Sssex," he hisses, ending the demand with a sound as similar to an 'x' as he could get with the teeth. Chris's eyes blink wide open behind his glasses. "You. New th-thr... _thhhing_." Josh swallows, and rolls his hips upward once into Chris's ass, like he'd been doing on the bed. He sighs. "Dunno— need it. You."

And, well, shit. _That_ doesn't explain much of anything, now does it? All Chris knows now is that Josh is horny out of his damn mind, and apparently literally needs sex, for whatever reason. It still might even be a prank, Chris thinks momentarily as he briefly sweeps the room for the red light of a video camera capturing the moment, ready to be sent to Mike or whomever for shits and giggles later on.

Hannah crosses his mind. He guiltily squashes the memory of her down.

He doesn't see anything out of the ordinary though, and... besides. When Chris looks back down at Josh, he can confidently say that he's never seen this kind of distraught, seductive look on his best friend's face before, not even when they used to play-flirt all the time. He knows Josh, and the guy's not faking it— nor can he possibly be faking the erection that's grinding up into his backside again.

"...Jesus, man," Chris breathes out in shock, and Josh, knowing his friend's mannerisms and clocking the other's tone of voice even after a year and a half spent apart, takes it as an invitation, because it kind of is without having to outright say anything incriminating. Chris had hoped he'd get to do this with Josh sometime, he's liked him for god knows how long at this point— and it hadn't gone away, even after the incident. He just didn't think that their first time would involve razor sharp teeth and nails, but... hey, he'll take it where he can get it. And if it makes Josh feel better, then Chris wouldn't deny him. Much, anyway. They've gotta work around that mouth.

The taller man chirps contently at the words, and swiftly rolls them over again so that he's covering Chris with his body once more, the pizza on the nightstand paying the price for it when someone's foot bumps into the furniture and the pieces tumble to the floor as a result.

Chris frowns at the sound of a plate hitting the carpet, locking eyes with Josh again. "I made that special for you, you dick. With love, and help from the microwave. But mostly love."

"Lo— luff," Josh repeats, of course finding time for a speech lesson in this whole whirlwind of craziness, and pulls a smile before he leans down to affectionately nuzzle Chris's throat with his forehead and nose, carefully making sure that his teeth are turned away from the delicate skin there. Chris swallows at it, nervous but allowing for it to happen.

"...Hey. Just so you know, if one'a your teeth nicks me and I die, just know I'm gonna haunt you forever, Washington. You can count on it."

Josh laughs, something whispery and almost spooky, but Chris finds the charm in it easily. It sounds like his friend's old laugh, only if he'd had a cold or another condition that damaged his throat. It's familiar, and he relaxes further again. And Chris, still boggled out of his mind, regardless allows for Josh to slink down his body and nuzzle it, assuming that it was a stand-in for kisses. Josh shoves up his shirt then, sticking out his tongue and licking a hot, wide stripe along where Chris's hipbone would jut out again if he lost the ten pounds he gained while getting back on his feet after the mountain.

He inhales sharply through his nose at it, and Josh winks at him in return, before trying to smoothly unbuckle his belt— and failing. The other tries again a second later, becoming frustrated much faster than usual— maybe out of impatience, but Chris cuts him off and does it himself. He nods to Josh's fingernails, "Those things are deadly, bro. Leave the dexterous stuff to me, alright?"

Josh snorts, offended but agreeing all the same, and pushes the heel of his hand to the straining tent in his sweatpants to offer it some relief, Chris assumes. "Y'know," he drawls in a murmur, catching Josh's attention again, "not that I have anything to go off of, but did it...? Uh." He flounders, feeling his face flush again, and Josh cocks his head once more, eyes sparkling with interest as his eyebrows furrow in the same manner.

"Did it— y'know. Your dick. Did it get bigger like the rest of you?" Chris forces himself to finish, and Josh slowly grins as he barks out a loud laugh, half human and half wendigo, but Chris finds amusement in it too despite everything. He's sure if Josh had his normal teeth, the guy would cook up and serve a quick little one-liner, but not anymore; or at least for now, he can't.

Instead, Josh nods, his smile growing. "Mm. Je... helous?" He says pretty clearly, and Chris coughs, shoving at the other's head in retaliation.

"No! I'm doin' just fine in the dick department, thanks. I was just wondering, is all." Chris swallows, noting Josh's quirked, teasing eyebrow. "Don't look at me like that."

Finally, without further distraction he gets his pants undone, and shoves them down enough so that it'd be easier for Josh to tug them the rest of the way off. He doesn't though, not yet anyway, because instantly Josh is shoving his cheek to Chris's half-erect cock and nosing at it delightedly, before taking a long, low, quiet sniff of the musk there and oh god, why is that kind of hot?

Josh's quiet laugh tells him that he'd just said that out loud however, and Chris falls back to slap his hands over his burning face, mortified. "Smell... niccce. Hot," Josh insists to him and rolls his hips into the bed again, aching for it, and takes it upon himself to excitedly paw at Chris's boxers where he's almost fully hard in an attempt to try and pull them down without using his fingers. Josh licks at the tip that happens to peek out from beneath Chris's waistband as a result of his hard work and sighs at what seems like its taste, pleased.

Chris gasps softly at that, before he shakes his head and returns to his senses, shooting up onto an elbow and placing a firm hand on Josh's forehead in order to keep him from going back for seconds. " _Hey_ , whoa-hoho. Uh-uh," he breathes. Josh's nose scrunches up as he hisses at him, though not primally, just peeved. "As much as I'd love that from you, your teeth could seriously turn my dick into hamburger helper with one wrong move, dude. Maybe another time." He knows Josh has had at least some experience with guys, but dear god, it's not the time to refresh the guy's memory on how to give a proper blowjob.

Josh frowns at that, watching Chris's hand fall away from his sweaty forehead before glaring at him, then at the underwear that's outmaneuvered him, and stubbornly shoves a nail underneath the band. Before Chris can stop him, he slices through the fabric like butter and the elastic snaps apart, leaving Josh complacent and Chris spluttering at his new loose boxers.

"I— _bro_ ," he deadpans, and Josh only chuckles as he now effortlessly yanks the underwear down to his friend's knees where his jeans also lie, using his palms. He smells Chris's scent again as he holds the other's cock with both heels of his hands, panting like he can't get enough of it.

Chris can only guess that whatever's happening is a result of the situation that Josh had implied he was going through, and wonders again if it's a wendigo sex thing— a ritual, maybe. Quite possibly a mating thing, even. His stomach flips at that, and his hips absentmindedly buck up into Josh's face. His friend takes it in stride, thank god, but flicks the tip of his tongue out to dip it into the slit of Chris's dick, which makes the other curse.

" _Damn_ _it_ , Josh—"

"Shhh," he tells Chris, and runs his tongue around the circumference of the dark pink head, drawing out precum before tasting it again and whining at it. A little fascinated, Chris watches with heedy interest. He's never had someone— dare he say it, practically worship his dick like this before; and it's kind of...

Well, it's more than hot. Way more than hot.

His cock twitches in Josh's hands at the thought, and Josh purrs, doing his best to smirk up at Chris in reply. His eyes are much darker now than they had been five minutes ago, and Chris swallows before exhaling heavily, hoping that this sexual discovery doesn't turn into a bloodbath because Josh is crazy for precum.

He shouldn't talk, or maybe he should, he doesn't know. But all he blurts out is: "I... can I see you? Like..." he trails off, licking his lips and biting them both momentarily in anticipation.

Josh evidently takes a few seconds to register the question, but ultimately blinks and nods, climbing back up the bed to straddle Chris's stomach and wordlessly solicits the other to undress him.

Belatedly, after Josh pointedly plucks at his own ruined t-shirt to signal that it's difficult for him to pull his clothes off by himself, Chris gets it and gingerly removes the man's shirt, mindful of the bloody, red cuts that are already littering his olive skin. "I'm gonna start putting you in bubble wrap, bro. Christ."

Josh, however playful he was a couple minutes ago, doesn't laugh at that, instead eyeing Chris up and down. Hungry.

Chris shivers silently at it, before he shifts Josh off of him and goes to tug down his sweatpants, noting briefly that his friend forewent underwear again like usual. Made it easier to piss, Josh had scribbled on a piece of paper way back when he'd first come home.

What Chris is faced with then is a raging, leaking, _angry_ red boner, and the sight makes him wince. His own dick hurts just from looking at it.

"Fuck, dude..." he gapes, rather loud, concerned. "How long've you been like this?" Chris looks up at Josh to meet his eyes, and the other looks away, almost guiltily.

"Fffive," Josh answers softly, and Chris shakes his head.

"What, hours?"

The other man nods, the gesture nearing sheepish.

Chris curses again and grimaces, feeling bad for the guy even though he knows it isn't either of their faults. There's a lull in the conversation, not uncomfortable, but Chris is still quick to fill it. "Let me help. Here," he breathes, his tone low as he shuffles off of the bed in order to kneel in-between his friend's long, long legs that are hanging over the edge. Chris grunts as he pulls Josh forward a bit by the backs of his knees, face to face with a body part that's never been inside his mouth before, and lucky him that it's practically the size of his fucking forearm. It's intimidating of course, but not so much that he wouldn't at least _try_.

Josh chitters then, seemingly in some kind of protest, insecurity, or warning before Chris wraps his mouth around the head of his best friend's dick that's as stiff as a damn rock, and Josh whines, loud and deep. Chris can feel the other's toes curl as he slowly makes sense of the motions he's had some girls do to him before, careful of his teeth and of how much he could take without gagging— which admittedly was a pitiful few inches, really. Josh lets him figure it out though, just that side of patient, and trying to murmur what Chris thinks are encouraging words that don't ever make it past his teeth.

When he's got a nice rhythm going, that's when he realizes how docile Josh has gotten. He's letting Chris do his thing without being all impatient about it anymore, whimpering and fisting at his sheets which ultimately rips them, and trembling a little under Chris's hands that are naturally exploring the divets and smooth skin of his torso, the dark, pebbled nipples, the sharp hipbones and ribs. He wouldn't be afraid to say that he absolutely savors and revels in all the small, beautiful sounds and short intakes of breath it earns him.

"Sssoon, soon," Josh tells him abruptly soon thereafter in a slur, making Chris blink and be yanked from the reverie that was Josh's voice and skin. Chris hums audibly in response, acknowledging it but not pulling off, and even with how little experience he's got, he has Josh squirming and stuttering and hissing tiny ' _Ch'is, Ch'is, Ch'is_ 'es before he moans throatily as he paints the inside of his best friend's mouth in white, hips snapping upward to which Chris instinctively shoves them back down after half-gagging from not preventing it in the first place.

There's... a lot of cum, he thinks absently as he pulls off, some seed even dripping out at the loss of a vacuum seal keeping it all in. It's an inhumane amount, and it clicks that this is probably the wendigo DNA's doing, as he swallows what he can before deciding that he couldn't deal with the texture or the sheer amount of it and spits out the rest onto Josh's underwear beside him on the floor.

Huffing, Josh pushes himself up onto his elbows, not quite looking as fucked-out as Chris thought he'd be. Josh studies him for a while, taking in the sight. Playfully then, he reaches down to delicately thumb at the other's lower lip and successfully removing some leftover cum before bringing it to his own lips and licking it off. Josh purrs at it, playing it up a little maybe, before looking back down to the other man.

As much as it has Chris's dick throbbing with lust, and his pupils dilating to impossible sizes, he still finds it in himself to say a firm, obviously teasing, "Freak."

Josh smirks at him crookedly, and glances briefly, almost accidentally to his dick that... hasn't gone soft, not even in the slightest. Chris apparently makes a confused sound at that, because Josh snorts amusedly and answers him despite not receiving a physical question about it. "Need sssex. You. S'isly," he explains in a quiet, low tone, sounding almost apologetic about it. And that's not gonna fly, not at all.

Chris's eyes narrow at the information, not unhappy about it, but more intrigued and curious than anything. "Huh." He mumbles, and he glances down at his own aching cock, and then to Josh's, before his chest tightens and a bolt of desire surges through him, making him shrug and smirk up at the other. "I mean, I'm up for it if you are, bro."

Josh, blinking once and with a renewed, overly enthusiastic libido once more, grins and tackles him onto the floor with a happy trill escaping from between his jagged teeth.

**Author's Note:**

> I probably won't write more for this ship, though I admit it's still a damn good one. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are always much appreciated! ♥


End file.
